Lesson Learned
by SilverWolf7
Summary: The Alt!Doctor learns something new while washing up one day.


DIsclamier: Not mine. BBC's.

Notes: A story about the naive alt!ten and how much fun new experiences can be. A little fun, a lot dirty, and total crack!

Lesson Learned

It had been several weeks since he had been stuck here in a mansion with Rose and her family.

It wasn't so much that he didn't want to go out of the house, but more that he couldn't get the motivation to get up for very long. The situation had hit sometime a few hours after he had gotten into the mansion, and he had only started shaking it off.

Well, at least neither he nor Rose were crying wrecks any more. He swore he'd been doing that more than she had. Yet again, he was so used to being able to live without letting his emotions out, that the idea that humans were emotional beings, more so than a Time Lord, had been absurd until he had found it to be rather true.

He had been learning other things that he had known were absurd but true facts from living with them for so long, like that they needed at least 6 hours of sleep to be able to function properly, needed a good balanced diet and 3 proper meals a day. That his bladder was more prone to filling a lot faster as his body didn't process the same way anymore.

He still didn't class himself as human though. He couldn't. Not when he could still feel the spinning of the planet, and time around him. Time lines and all his senses were still with him, though he hadn't yet tried his telepathic ability, he was afraid to.

But most of his problems stemmed from his emotions which he couldn't hide for long anymore.

He'd cry himself to sleep, he'd glare at anyone who tried to coddle him because he hated being all domestic again, but worst of all was his anger. The entire force of it would hit him like a truck and he would scream and kick and punch things until he was red in the face and thought he was going to have his heart, his one, singular, _human_ heart explode in his chest.

The things he had smashed to pieces would cost a fortune.

Thankfully the Tyler's here were rich. They could afford it.

He couldn't help it if he was pissed off at himself, well the other him, for leaving him stranded. And Rose, regardless of what he might have said or thought, really wasn't helping matters much, stuck with her thoughts roaming about another universe in the TARDIS as much as his were.

He sighed, and turned off the taps. Lunch was now well and truly over, and he had been designated washer upper for this meal.

Honestly, smash a plate and suddenly the whole world is against you...

Not that it really mattered right now, cause this time he felt he deserved to be punished. No one should go off like that over a silly comment about hair. No one. It hadn't even been his hair they were talking about.

He rubbed at his eyes, glad the sting from the tears was gone now. He hated that he cried when he was angry too. It made him look like an idiot. He reached with one hand for the washcloth, the other reaching for the first thing his fingers would find that needed washing. His eyes were staring bleakly into the water.

His eyes almost popped out when the first thing his fingers touched was soft and squishy and kind of...he looked over, to see he had grabbed the teat of Tony's bottle. He shook his head, grabbed it fully, and washed it, trying to forget the thought of what it might be like to touch a different set of...

No, bad thoughts. He wouldn't think of Rose like that. He was supposed to be angry, remember? Smashing plates at lunchtime...

He washed it slowly, rubbing his hands along the tip of it, which was still whole even though Tony had teeth now. He'd be concerned otherwise, since the youngest Tyler was now 3 years old...and usually his mind could think of more than one thing at a time and his body usually only reacted when he wanted it to, but nope, there it goes now, and wow, this was new!

He looked down. He looked back up and about the room, before he looked back down again.

Why the hell did they allow a 3 year old to still have their baby bottle anyway? Oh, yes, because otherwise the kid went into temper tantrums close to the one he had thrown not long ago. He'd blame Tony for this...problem.

Humans! They had no control over their bodies. He shook his head, put the top down and reached for the actual bottle. He hoped it would go away soon. Did they go away? It wasn't like he spontaneously had ever had this happen to him before.

Oh, sure, he had sex. On rare occasions, well he had a few times anyway, with his wife who was now dead and buried, and it wasn't as if he had been remotely interested in her sexually to start off with...that was just for population reasons.

And he would really have to start thinking of something else, because now it was getting bigger and more pronounced.

He shifted and it sent jolts of something that he was sure was pleasure through him and he stilled himself.

"Okay, note to self, buy loose pants..." he said out loud to himself.

He really wished someone would come in and tell him what the hell was going on, because the only thing that it was good for was getting urine out of his body and making babies. He didn't want a baby at the moment, and he was sure he didn't need to empty his bladder.

So why was this happening? He tried to concentrate on his body, make it go away, but he found that that particular Time Lord trait had been flushed away from his system when he had been made from Donna. Damn it, his body was slightly more human than he liked.

He shook his head and sighed. Well, he was sure it would go away by itself. He'll just have to get used to it. He got the washcloth, bunched it together and shoved it in the bottle, before twisting it and pulling it back out.

Did it just _twitch_?

He looked down, and wasn't sure what the hell he should think of it acting on its own. It was, after all, attached to him.

Shrugging, thinking maybe it was his imagination, he repeated the action again, and again, and again, and again, and this bottle would really be clean if he didn't stop it right now. Each time the washcloth went in he had the odd urge to move his hips forward.

After twisting the rag around a few times inside the bottle, making sure to get it all the way in so the bottom would be clean as well, he gave up all pretence of trying not to think, and leaned into the bench.

It hurt, but felt good at the same time.

He continued on like before, this time rubbing himself as gently as he could against the bench. He changed patterns with his washing, until he found that he was starting to hurt himself by grinding into the hard surface.

He grimaced, but really didn't want the feeling to end.

Okay, he had walked in on Jack in the library on the TARDIS that time. He remembered, because he had wanted to know what was so special about doing this. Jack tried giving him an answer, never stopping what he had been doing, all the while smiling at him. He had never really gotten it. Well, until now, because he was aching and hard and was he dripping?

That's it; it had a life of its own. There was no other explanation.

He dropped the bottle into the soapy water, undid his pants and let them drop to his ankles. He had on nothing under them, as he hadn't yet found out what he preferred yet. This body was slightly different in its way of thinking than the original him.

There was a debate over boxers and briefs he kept having with himself. Must have gotten that from Donna. He had given up at all in the end, and decided to go natural.

And now he could see it. It didn't look too different from Jack's. Standing on some ungodly angle out from the rest of his body, curved a bit, and, yep, it was dripping alright. He reached an exploring hand down to swipe at the drop that was at the tip, and the reaction was almost instantaneous. He groaned loudly, and gripped the bench with _that_ hand, the one he was made from.

This was _his_. The bastard other him was not getting anything out of it.

And the other him definitely had no idea what he was missing out on, because _damn, this felt good!_

All he had was Jack's example. So, he reached back down, grasped himself in his own hand, and started to move it.

It was his first experience like this, he had no idea what he was doing really, and he had wanted it to last, but he couldn't help himself. Within seconds his hand was pumping madly, and he was leaning all his weight on the other arm. Odd little sounds passed his lips, his head was thrown back, and then his entire world exploded around him and he was sure that for a few seconds his heart stopped beating.

It started again by itself thankfully, and he felt it thundering in his chest, as he panted for breath, and looked down.

_Ah, so that's how you get it to go back to normal then_, he thought to himself, as he looked at the mess he had made from what he had done. It was all white and sticky strands of gunk. And that was what made the babies. Better not let Rose touch it then, or even worse, Jackie.

"Alright, Pete, you explain this one to him," came the voice of said older Tyler woman, who was staring at him like he had just grown another head. She and Pete were both blushing, and it was odd. This was normal for humans. He knows it was. All of them did it. He made sure to let them, when he had the TARDIS, because it was just so...mammalian.

What was left to explain he hadn't already just learnt any way? Other ways to do it? Pete came towards him and stopped. "Put it away, will you?" Pete stated, looking quickly away. With a blink, he did as he was told.

He dumped his hand in the water and cleaned it of the semen that was beginning to dry.

For something that felt so bloody fantastic, it sure as hell was messy!

Jackie made a weird sound in the back of her throat before disappearing. He did know a little about this subject, but the last time he had anything to do with sex he had been young and in his original body.

One forgot things after 900 years of nothing.

With Jackie gone and him with his pants back on, Pete took him over to a stand, sat him down on it and shook his head. "Please, don't do that again," was the first thing out of the man's lips.

DonnaDoctor (who hadn't yet picked out a proper name, he would need one, thought that if Donna had gone by DoctorDonna, it was only fair he reversed it) stared. "What? I thought, you know, that it was kind of...natural for you humans to do it. Why can't I?!"

Pete closed his eyes and DonnaDoctor could see the lip movements of someone counting to ten. "I didn't mean that you can't do it at all. Go right ahead, but do so _privately_."

Ah. See, that's where he got confused. Jack had been in a very open part of the TARDIS, but he had made a rule centuries ago about not entering Companions' bedrooms without first knocking. Not for this reason, but because sometimes you just need a break from other people being around you.

How was he to know that it was impolite? And anyway, they had been the ones watching.

Either way, he was warned now. He wouldn't do it again. Well, in the kitchen anyway.

His mind had gone back to multiple thinking again.

Too bad about it all being the one subject though.


End file.
